Chapter 91

Vivian moved with effortless elegance, her steps measured and poised. She offered her hand with practiced grace. "Vivian Hartley. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kingsley."

Reginald's handshake was firm yet brief, his lips curling into an amused smile as he glanced at Damien. "No surprise you chose to attend tonight. Supporting such exquisite talent is indeed... compelling. Though most would keep such beauty discreetly reserved, not displayed so publicly." His implication was clear - he assumed Vivian to be Damien's romantic interest.

Vivian remained composed, her expression unreadable. She recognized this dance of corporate politics - Reginald was testing boundaries, probing whether Damien was leveraging investments for personal gain.

Damien caught the veiled accusation instantly. "Mr. Kingsley, let's not make assumptions." His voice carried quiet authority. "Vivian and I maintain a strictly professional relationship. Having secured your investment, we vet all talent with meticulous care. While she's new to this industry, I have every confidence her performance will surpass expectations."

His professional admiration for Vivian was genuine. Tonight's event served multiple purposes - introducing Vivian to key players while navigating the treacherous waters of industry politics, complicated further by his family's intricate dynamics and the cutthroat competition simmering beneath the surface.

Reginald's smile remained inscrutable. "I look forward to witnessing the surprise you've promised."

As their conversation concluded, the energy in the room shifted perceptibly. A circle of networkers immediately surrounded Damien, while several eligible bachelors - now aware Vivian wasn't romantically attached - began making calculated approaches.

In a dimly lit corner, Serena observed the unfolding scene, her fingers tightening around her champagne flute until her knuckles turned white. The bitter taste of exclusion burned her throat.

Serena had made her entrance with deliberate grace, her emerald-green gown shimmering under the chandeliers, the diamond necklace from Adrian catching the light with every movement. She'd spent hours perfecting her appearance, determined to command attention among the elite.

Yet in this gathering of old money and established power, her carefully constructed image seemed to evaporate. The high society crowd regarded her with polite indifference that stung more than outright rejection. Despite her rising fame, she remained an outsider - the women exchanging subtle, knowing glances, the men maintaining careful distance out of respect for Adrian's implied claim.

Only a handful of desperate aspiring actors acknowledged her presence. The rest of the room might as well have looked straight through her.

Unconsciously, Serena's grip on her glass tightened, the stem threatening to snap. Her gaze kept returning to Vivian, the comparison unavoidable.

When Vivian had married Adrian, even those who initially dismissed her eventually offered grudging respect. Now, about to be divorced and stripped of the Blackwood name, Vivian should have been just another industry newcomer.

Yet somehow she still commanded Damien's attention with that infuriating natural poise. Serena had clawed her way up, seized every opportunity, yet could never achieve the effortless grace Vivian displayed in these social minefields. The injustice of it burned like acid in her veins.

Her attention snapped to the entrance where Margaret and Bianca had arrived. Margaret had always been notoriously critical of women in Adrian's orbit who didn't meet her exacting standards.

Serena knew better than to confront her directly, but an opportunity for subtle manipulation presented itself. After a calculated pause, she glided toward Bianca, her movement as precise as a chess player advancing her queen.